


Ritual

by queen_scribbles



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 14:26:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19200721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles
Summary: Loss cuts deep, even years after the fact.





	Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill 94: In Memorium. I wound up using Charity, since I've already done a similar fic for Tavi, and Emiri doesn’t really remember her family enough. Plus, y’know, I’m still giddy I get to write married!Ederity, even if it’s a less fluffy subject than usual.

She wished she could forget what today was.

But considering she was awake hours before sunrise and it was already all she could think about, Charity didn’t figure there were good odds on forgetting. Maybe that was a good thing, she mused, rubbing her face with one hand. Guilt still prickled, much like the tingling in the arm trapped under her sleeping husband, even years later.

She needed to pray. And while she wasn’t really worried about waking Edér--the man slept like a log--she _did_ want to do so alone. So she gently extricated her arm from under him and rolled out of bed. Her hair went up in a hasty bun, messy and likely full of knots, and she pulled on the first clothes she could reach. No shoes; it was still warm enough and it felt _right_ to be barefoot for this.

Sparrow _mroaw_ ed softly, twining between her ankles, and Charity picked her up. “You wanna come with me?”

_Mrrrrrr_

“Well, alright. But you’ll have to stay away from the candles.” Cat in hand, Charity slipped from the bedroom and padded out to the chapel.

 

                                              -o-   -o-    -o-

She sat there for hours, the ache in her chest steadily growing the more the sky tinged pink and gold with approaching dawn. Losing a sister was bad enough. Feeling responsible for that loss kept the pain fresh significantly longer. Charity leaned forward to confirm the sun was fully over the horizon.

She hugged her knees into her chest, vaguely felt the aches that came with sitting on the floor, and pulled in a shaky breath. It was time.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, throat already tight. “Sorry I couldn’t help, sorry I didn’t know more.” Just like every year, the memory of rattling, labored breaths going harshly, abruptly silent pressed in, sharp as if it had been yesterday. “I hope...” She sniffled, wiped her nose on her sleeve as her eyes burned. “I hope, if the Wheel’s made ya someone new by now, that you’re happy. I hope Berath granted you that kindness after takin’ you so young.” _Damn blight._

Sparrow chose that moment to slink under Charity’s tented knees and headbutt her hand, as if she could sense her distress. Charity smiled faintly and scritched between her calico’s ears. Satisfied she’d done her part, Sparrow laid down, tail lazily curling and uncurling in the sunlight stripes decorating the floor.

Grateful as she was for her cat’s intervention, the melancholy still lingered. If this year followed the pattern, that ache would stay til she went to bed. After seventeen years, she was used to it. _Few more minutes, then I go about  my day..._ She had a lot to do, and while it wouldn’t entirely distract her, it would help.

The chapel door creaked softly as it opened--they’d need to fix that before it got too cold--and the muted sound of booted footsteps carried someone closer.

“Char?” The concern in Edér’s voice was obvious. “What’s wrong?”

She tried to surreptitiously wipe her eyes before he reached her so he didn’t get the wrong idea. “Nothin’s really wrong....”

He scoffed quietly. “Am I really s’pposed to believe that when you’re sittin’ on the chapel floor barefoot an’ lookin’ like you been cryin’ this early in the mornin’?”

He had a point. “It’s not...” How did she explain this little ritual of hers? “It’s an old wound that hurts worse one day a year.”

Edér chuckled and offered her his hand. “Got a couple of those m’self, darlin’. Whenever you’re ready to stop bein’ cryptic, I’m here for ya.”

Another good point. He was just full of them this morning. Charity smiled wryly as she accepted the hand up. If she could be open with anyone about this, it would be him. She let him haul her upright, careful not to step on Sparrow, and leaned instinctively into the hug she knew he was going to offer. “’Member my sister?”

His breath caught and the hand rubbing her back paused ever so briefly. “Is this...?”

She nodded against his shirt. “The anniversary. Yeah.”

Edér was quiet for a long moment, just holding her and rubbing her back. “...You wanna talk about her?”

_That’s never been part of the ritual_ , a piece of her immediately protested. But she’d never been married for this day, either. Things changed. She nodded against his shirt again, and Edér gently tugged her toward a proper seat.

“Alright, then,” he said encouragingly. “What was her name? What was she like?”

“Saela,” Charity replied with a shaky smile. One hand reached for her necklace, zipping the pendent back and forth on the chain. “She was outgoing and adventurous and always so, so happy.” She snorted softly. “Our parents named her well. She liked to stick fight with the boy next door, wore trousers under her dresses, ‘cause she liked dresses but they didn’t work so well for climbin’ trees an’ such. Ma used to say she had a smile so sunny it must’ve been blessed by Eothas himself.”

“Sounds like a good kid,” Edér commented, reaching for her hand to intertwine their fingers.

“She also hated vegetable,” Charity said with a laugh. She hadn’t talked about Saela in ages. It felt good to share stories with someone. “Which I guess is normal. An’ fruit, which is less normal. Our mom had to get really tricky for her to eat anything with either in it. And she sometimes would wander off to _have adventures_ when she was s’pposed to be helpin’ Papa with the vorlas.” Not for the first time, the thought floated through her mind: _Maybe if she’d had more adventures and picked less vorlas she’d still be alive_. She squeezed Edér’s hand appreciatively. “I use’ta get so _mad_ at her for that, ‘cause the worst she ever got was a scoldin’ no mater how many times she did it. ‘Course when she got sick I found myself wishin’ she’d run off one more time; maybe if she hadn’t been around s’much vorlas she wouldn’t’ve caught the... the sickness.”

Edér winced. “Effigy’s eyes, Char, she got _that_?” He pulled her closer to wrap his other arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, darlin’. We heard about that... plague or whatever you’d call it, down here. Sounded blazin’ nasty.”

“It was,” she said softly. “An’ see, I’d been apprenticin’ with this traveling healer who would visit smaller towns for a stretch t’ help with ailments an’ injuries an’ such, but he’d moved on when that swept through. So there I was, fourteen years old, an’ scramblin’ to help my baby sister with two measly years of apprenticeship under my belt.  I knew how to treat symptoms; what to brew as a tea t’ help her breathing, or what would dull aches an’ soothe her fever. But I didn’t know how to treat the root of it ‘sides pray and hope for a blazin’ miracle.” She sniffled at the memory, curled in closer to Edér’s side. “So all I could do for Saela was make her comfortable and _sit there_. Watch her get weaker and weaker, listen to her cough get worse and worse ‘til she could barely breathe.

“That last night, I think part of me knew.” He voice went flat; reciting facts she wanted to share with him but gating off emotions that still hurt. “I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, but somethin’ wouldn’t let me sleep. I tried _everything_ one last time. Prayer, every medicinal concoction I knew that might help... but none of it did.” She had to compose herself as the memory of that horrible frozen moment of silence hit, the sluggish heartbeats before Ma wailed and Papa cursed and her family plunged headlong into the darkest year of their lives. Edér, bless him, didn’t rush her.  “So every year I sit that last vigil to remember her. To pray that if she’s done her turn on the Wheel, whoever she is now is happy. And to... apologize.”

“What for?” Edér protested, indignant on her behalf. “That blight was th’ worst thing to hit this side a’ the ocean for the past hundred years. From what I heard, healers an’ priests with _decades_ of practice under their belts couldn’t always cure it. Whadda you have to apologize for?”

Charity shrugged. “She was my sister and she died. The lady next farm over came down with it, too, and I gave her son some advice which I guess he used an’ _she_ pulled through. But not Saela. Couldn’t... couldn’t save her.” Her thumb rubbed futilely across her palm, missing the long-lost worry stone that had served as a reminder of her sister. The words had come out more bitter and woeful than she really felt, but this day was always hard on her nerves. “I know it ain’t really my fault, but...” She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.  “I think it’s only natural for kith to blame ourselves for things like that.”

“True,” Edér conceded, his thumb absently rubbing over her knuckles. “Gods know how many damn times I’ve wondered what mighta been different if I’d gone with Woden. Maybe nothin’. Maybe he’d still be alive. Maybe I’d be dead, too.”

“Well, I’m glad that didn’t happen,” Charity said lightly, trying to fight the deep-seated melancholy.

Edér chuckled. “So’m I. Missin’ ‘em’s all well and good, wonderin’ a little’s no harm, just don’t wallow in it.” He kissed her temple. “That don’t lead nowhere good.”

Trust him to worry about her. It made her smile, just a little. “I know,” she promised. “No wallowing, trust me. It’s just hard losing family, and that never goes completely away.”

“Is that why you made yourself so busy today? I know you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

“You’re smarter’n you look,” Charity teased, which earned a mild  _‘hey now’_ of protest from her husband. “That’s exactly why. And speakin’ of my schedule, we better go eat breakfast if we wanna have it together before I get to things. An’ don’t you need to get to wok?”

“Now that I’m sure everything’s alright--so to speak--with my wife, I prob’ly should,” he acknowledged with a laugh. “But breakfast first.”

“Breakfast first,” Charity agreed, stealing a kiss before she pushed to her feet.

Edér stood as well, wrapping his arm around her shoulders again as they headed back to the house. Charity found herself silently leaning into the support he offered. She might not be able to forget what today was, but having him to lean on would make it easier to handle.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Saela is a Nordic name that should be pronounced “Sy-lah”(rhymes with Lila), but I think with Eoran pronunciation rules it would be said “Say-lah”, so whichever of the two you pick is fine, I guess. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ It means happiness or bliss, to go with Charity’s birth name of Jara(should be said “Yara”) which means honeycomb or spring. Clearly their parents were very happy in Readceras.


End file.
